The Doctor and Clara Oswald
by FallInLoveWithTeganAndSara
Summary: The Doctor and Clara are set out to take another amazing adventure to a demon planet called Bleeding Hollow. But before that journey happens, McDonald's becomes the center of the Doctor's mind for a bit... This story will eventually become more of what its rating means.
1. Chapter 1

The Doctor walks around the TARDIS control room, pressing buttons and switching gears that are closest to his hands. He feels the need to slump into the leathery-plush-looking chairs behind him but refrains from doing so, remembering that another Wednesday awaits him.

He has terrible timing for Earth time and weeks; Clara says: "see you next Wednesday!" it very well could be a Wednesday two weeks from now, one a month before, or he could show up on a Friday. But never a year later – the Doctor is careful of that.

The TARDIS groans as it barrels top first through the time vortex, causing the alien in the box to tumble, fall, and bang his head a few times against the floor.

"Argh!" The man exclaims, reaching up and clutching at the railing for support. The Doctor stands to his full height and stretches, cracking his back in the process; he shakes out his arms and legs. "All right, then! It's a Wednesday – hopefully! – which means Clara is waiting!"

There was a time when the Doctor would have been comfortable coming out of his blue box without anything fancy on, now, because of Clara Oswald, he is prone to making sure that his hair and clothes are in perfect order. Humans call it an OCD. But, he would never admit to Clara that he does specific things for her.

He walks out of his space ship with a jump to his step, closing the door behind him before looking up at the large apartment structure before his eyes. Walking up the numerous amount of stairs adds to his extra work out every Wednesday when he takes Clara to a new planet; he does that just so he can see her beautiful brown eyes light up with the thrill of being chased or running from another species of alien. But he ascends the staircase rapidly, taking two steps at a time.

When the Doctor reaches her floor he knocks on the correct door and waits, restraining himself from wringing his hands and fidgeting around. It feels like hours, when it was actually seconds, before Miss Clara Oswald opened the door to her flat.

"Doctor!" She exclaims, smiling almost nervously. "Let me just finish my tea, then we can go. Come on in,"

Sometimes the alien-man feels different with each of his regenerations – not just mentally but also physically wrong. With his other companions he was comfortable in their presence with the new body that he took on, but with Clara it's different. The Doctor realizes, almost with a fright, that he is close to one-thousand rather than his previous nine-hundred-and-forty-five age and that Clara is most likely one of the youngest companions by his side. It doesn't make him feel confused, more awkward than anything because he is incredibly old and put in a body that is clearly around his friend's current age. But, Clara doesn't seem too affected by this.

Clara to another room in the flat while the Doctor looks around, now noticing that she's been putting the gifts that he's gotten for her at each planet they've been to in the front room. It brings the house together.

"So," he clears his throat. "Where do you want to go today? I was thinking we could go to Bleeding Hollow. It's only two-thousand years old – practically a baby! Lots of exotic foods, demons, a different culture, all of that stuff! You'd like it,"

"Will there be running involved?" Clara asks, getting that voice where she sounds smarter than him but also subduing her curiosity.

"Possibly," the Doctor answers, realizing he was leaning down he straightens up, wringing his large hands out in front of him. "Running is exercise, Clara – we all need it, frankly. Too many over-weight apes here. Why is that?"

She noticeably chokes on her tea, suppressing laughter. "It's called McDonalds, Doctor."

"McDonalds?"

"Yes,"

He walks around her small living room, scratching his forehead. "Well, that sounds unpleasant… What – What do they sell there? Is it a supermarket? A shop – I love shops!"

"No, Doctor, it's a fast-food 'restaurant'." Clara makes air-quotes, giggling slightly. "It just so happens to be a place where they make burgers, chips, and other stuff at. There's a lot of controversy as to whether the food is processed or frozen – even both."

"A fast food restaurant that sells burgers and chips?" Doctor asks, rummaging in some of Clara's pull-out drawers in the kitchen. "Do they deliver? Are they alien? What type of quality is their service?"

"Fast!" Clara exclaims, chugging down the rest of her tea and washing the cup in the sink. "That's why they call it _fast_ food, Doctor. They don't deliver – haven't you ever seen a fast food joint? It's worldwide, you must have seen one at some point in your travels."

His longer fingers cease their adventure in the paper-stuffed drawer, and he removes them to start tossing around other things in search for a menu for this establishment. "Menu, menu, menu! CLARA – a menu! Does this McDonalds have a menu!?"

"DOCTOR! Why are you throwing papers around?!" Clara yelps, standing a little too close to the Doctor now, nearly being hit by his flailing hands.

"Menu, Clara! A menu!"

Clara suddenly starts batting at the Doctor's arms to make him stop, eventually he does. "They don't have menus anywhere but at their joint. We can go and get some if you want."

"What about our plans for another planet?" He asks, clearly confused as his brows start to crinkle together. "Do I have to dress fancy?"

"It's _fast food! _We can eat it in the TARDIS or here whenever we get back. Since when do you need to dress up for a chain-restaurant?"

"I don't know! Humans dress up for everything!"

"You're weird," Clara says, staring at him with appreciative eyes, starting to smile. "Let's go. No sense in wasting time in the present when you've got a time machine!"

The Doctor and Clara show up at the closest McDonalds in two minutes flat and exit the TARDIS onto a bustling street that neither of them can pin-point. But, in the distance Clara can see the large golden arch of the rubbish restaurant; she proceeds to yank the Doctor in this direction.

The two of them scamper into the large lit-up floor and wait in line behind a few other people. Clara can feel the Doctor starting to get a little antsy at waiting, knowing that he hates anything that takes more than three minutes in his mind when it's truly only twenty seconds.

"That's the menu," Clara tells the man beside her, pointing up at the illuminated pictures at level with the ceiling.

Clara watches curiously as he starts rubbing the back of his neck, staring up at the different choices before his eyes. He honestly seems a little bit startled and even more overwhelmed, silently wringing his hands, holding himself back from sonic-ing every square inch of the room.

"What's a chicken nugget?" He finally asks.

Clara breathes a sigh of relief at this question, finding that she's slightly amused by it. "Chicken in the form of a lump."

"Why don't they call it chicken lumps, then?" Clara shrugs. "Honestly – you think that I'm weird when your people chicken lumps!"

"Do you want them?"

"NOOO!"

Thirty seconds pass before the line starts moving up and away. Before the Doctor realizes, there is a woman looking at him with annoyed expression plastered on her face; she wears a lack shirt and black visor on her head.

"What can I get you?" She asks, clearly bored.

"Um," is all the Doctor can muster. He glances at Clara for a second, wondering silently why there are so many different things on the glowing board above his head.

He loses track of time, not one of the first, and starts blanking out. Unfortunately, the Time Lord's mind isn't supposed to compensate when it comes to human foods – or anything regarding human relations at all. He's just supposed to save them, not eat their food.

"Doctor," Clara says at his elbow, tugging on his tweed-coat sleeve.

"Mm?"

"You need to order. Now rather than later," she mutters, looking behind her with a nervous stare.

"Mate," a man behind them speaks up. "Come on, we've all got places to go. We're waiting on our food and you're holding up the line!"

The Doctor whirls around, "Oi! I'm thinking!"

"Clearly you think too much," the guy mutters.

He's about to say something when Clara rests her hand on the alien's arm, calming him almost immediately. "Just order something random. We should be going anyway,"

The time traveler turns back around towards the woman in front of him. "Alright, casher-lady. I'll have a large of your finest chips, and some chicken lumps! No sauce or whatever it is you think is sauce – clearly it's not sauce. Nothing should have little bits in it like yours does, which is honestly quite curious."

"Will that be all, sir?" The woman asks again, rolling her eyes.

"Yes! Was I supposed to order more, Clara?" He asks, leaning down to her height.

"No, you don't need to," she laughs, bringing her hand up to cover her mouth.

"Then why did she ask?"

"It's all a part of the job," Clara tells her time traveler.

Back in the safety and comfort of the TARDIS, the Doctor opens up the paper bag that is artfully covered in colorful pictures of animated food with eyes, weird looking toy characters, and even some people that Clara identified as football players.

"You know," the man mutters around a mouthful of chips, "these aren't half bad but I'm skeptical about those chicken lumps. They don't look promising. Why are they in different shapes?"

Clara reaches over into the chip container, plucking out a long one and nibbling on it. "I think it's to entertain kids, but I'm not sure. I'll make you a deal – if you eat one, I will too. If you don't want the other two we'll just throw them out, okay?"

"Sounds alright with me,"

His smart companion takes the box of chicken nuggets out of the paper box and sets it down between the two of them on the call box's floor. She presses down on the top of the box, which opens up underneath her fingers, then proceeds to hand the Doctor a nugget.

"Cheers," she giggles.

"Cheers," he murmurs, taking a tentative bite into the meat.

Clara watches her doctor chewing carefully on the chicken nugget, shifting the contents around and around in his mouth with curious eyes. She sees him taking several bites before the whole lump – as he calls it – is gone and he's reaching for the second one in the box.

"I take it you like them then?" His companion asks, smiling after swallowing her mouthful of fast food chicken.

"I can't taste a difference between this and Time Lord food," the Doctor smirks. "Why is that? Do you think that Time Lord food and human is alike – that would be an interesting topic to study! I should do that, don't you think? I dunno – maybe I'll do something fun."

"What?" His companion asks, confusion written all over her face.

"What – nothing! Bleeding Hollow, right? – I said we were going there for an adventure!" He laughs, standing up and starting his usual pulling of leavers, flicking switches and the like.

"What's there that is so adventurous?" Clara asks, taking the last nugget out of the box and tossing it into the control room's trash bin.

Her doctor smiles happily as the TARDIS around them both shakes uncontrollably as the police box enters the Time Vortex. "Exotic foods, demons, these beautiful little shops – you remember how much I love them, don't you, so we'll be going to a few of those, obviously. Right about now, actually, is when the Feast of Heart is taking place! That's when the demons take prisoners of war and eat their bodies as a right-of-passage."

Clara turns a light green just thinking about the Feast of Heart. She can deal with running away with the Doctor if they show up on some absurd planet that doesn't welcome visitors often, but she can't deal with another alien species eating hearts. Not after being on that Soviet submarine with Skaldak running loose. Seeing those human bodies ripped limb from limb so that the Martian could figure out human anatomy scarred Clara enough to give her nightmares. But she would never say no to a day out with her doctor.

"That sounds a bit different than all of the other places we've been to before," she tells the man clutching at the metal panel in front of him.

"Yeah – it's a bit different! But different is good – just look at me; I regenerate once I'm bored with this form, sometimes it's for other reasons, though…" The Doctor looks a little upset at him bring up his regenerations but doesn't say anything else. "But, every civilization is different, Clara, and that's how specific civilizations continue to thrive and generate new life-forms over centuries and years. It's a mystery, Miss Clara Oswald, but they are worth solving."

Once the TARDIS stops spinning and groaning, he comes over to his companion and hugs her gently, reassuringly. He can tell that she's nervous about this journey and he wants to make his companion as comfortable as possible today and every journey after this one.

"We don't need to stay here if it's going to make you uncomfortable, Clara," he takes Clara's hands in his, giving them a gentle squeeze.

Clara looks up into his spectacular blue-green eyes, responding to the squeeze with one of her own, smiling hesitantly. "I want to. I'm just nervous that I'm going to see something that will scare me…"

A flash of pain and respect ripples through the Doctor's eyes and he leans forward to look down into her equally perfect chocolaty brown ones. "Clara, you're under my protection. And if something were to ever happen to you – I don't know how I could live with myself."

"Don't get all sappy on me, chin-boy," Clara laughs, gently kissing his cheek.

Secretly, that is exactly what Clara needed to hear but she would never let the Doctor know that it made her feel safer than ever before. She knows that right on the Doctor's Time Lord skin is exactly where the truth lies about just how far he's willing to go to make Clara happy and confident during their adventures.

The Doctor pulls away and grabs Clara's coat by the front doors of the TARDIS. He turns towards her with a large grin. "Ready to go?"

Clara takes her coat from the Doctor's out stretched hand, raising her eyebrows. "Let's do this,"


	2. Chapter 2

They exit the TARDIS together, hand in hand. Clara steps out onto lush green grass in the middle of a deserted valley with the Doctor smiling beside her.

"Welcome to the longest living demon world, Clara Oswald. Welcome to Bleeding Hollow," he says wistfully, looking up towards the sky.

Clara looks up with him, her eyes nearly tearing up at the beautiful sight above her and her favorite person in the whole entire world. The sky looks almost brushed with a glowing orangey-gold-white dusting over a blackening background spread all along the sky for as long as Clara's eyes will see.

"This… This is beautiful, Doctor," Clara speaks in a whisper, clutching at his hand harder.

He smiles happily down at his companion. "I went ahead and made reservations at one of the hotels in the city – only one room since it's a little cheaper to stay in one room rather than two. I hope you don't mind," he asks, smirking slightly.

"I don't really," Clara says, biting her lip in anticipation. "Just keep your feet on your side of the bed, snoopy. I don't want to wake up with a foot in my face."

"Don't worry, Miss Oswald, I don't have a fetish for feet or anything of the like," he tells her, holding back laughter while doing so.

"Why'd you park the TARDIS so far away from the city?" Clara asks him, letting him drag her along the high grass to a dirt road leading – most likely – north.

"Like I've said: I don't take the TARDIS into battle,"

"This isn't a battle, though,"

The Doctor smiles down at Clara, adjusting his grip on her tiny hand. "True, but its beautiful mid-day here and the air is crisp and clean; we could both do with some fresh air."

Clara couldn't object. This air was just as he described it, clean and free of pollutions, unlike England with its constant rain and slight sun ever so often. She relished in the delicious air the whole entire time they walked, and the Doctor didn't interrupt much unless he wanted her to know specific land-marks or some interesting fact about a purple-tipped plant that was deadly to humans.

"Everything on Bleeding Hollow is deadly to humans – the food, the culture, and the plants – but only because they never have human visitors. Besides, their main food source is human organs and tissues. I only tell you this because even though some planets may look beautiful on the outside, on the inside is where the actual story lies. It's like that with each planet we go to, Clara."

Clara felt her stomach do an uneasy flip, learning that the primary food source here just so happens to be her kind. "Say they figure out I'm human – what happens to me?" She asks, her growing curiosity always getting the best of her.

Her Doctor takes a minute before answering, touching the prickly tree next to the purple-tipped plant. "Well, they'd probably question you, Clara. Then if you didn't meet their requirements of the 'perfect human' it is likely they'll kill you. But, I won't let that happen,"

"Promise?"

The Doctor kisses the back of her hand, pulling it back to reveal a wide grin set into that perfectly chiseled face. "I promise,"

Clara smiles happily as the Doctor places her hand by her waist and they start walking again. She makes sure not to fall over the rocks in her way as she swoons, just a little, at the closeness of the Doctor only seconds ago. Clara has always noticed the way her mind and body react whenever he kisses her forehead or hand, takes her by the hand down a dark corridor, and just the adventure that fills her whenever they're together. She loves him like no other man she's ever met in her life and feels a connection deep down that is more than just a friendly feeling. When he takes her on new adventures, new feelings sprout up in her heart for the mad man with that endless blue box, and that's what fuels her desperation for every Wednesday.

"There are plants here that are poisonous, so don't touch anything and don't get curious," the Doctor warns. "If you get parched, tell me so we can stop and find a water source. And, as always, dear Clara, _don't wander off._" He tells her, his voice becoming increasingly annoyed with going over the basic rules of traveling with the Doctor.

"You don't have to tell me twice, soldier," she giggles, gently patting his tweed shoulder.

"Oi, this isn't a joke, Clara, this place can fool with your mind, and I don't like dealing with delusional humans. It distracts me from our destination!"

"Alright, so, no touching any plants and no drinking water from specious spots until you've soniced it. Right – that's easy enough to remember."

The pair continue on walking in silence with the Doctor in front, shoulders hunched forwards, hands clasped behind his back as he examines everything with those age-old eyes of his, sometimes taking his sonic out and waving it around. He looks back at Clara a few times while she's off in her own world thinking about how weird the planet is, thinking to himself about how much he's noticed needing her in their trips together.

He's come to feel increasingly stronger about her over the time they've shared running away from life-threatening civilizations. The Doctor has had ages, it seems, to think about his companion and how good she is for him like Rose was a long, long time ago. Then he had been a little younger and war hungry, always ready to challenge something or plunge his hands deep into a problem, Rose helped him out of that rut and to become more like a mature Time Lord, the man who he has been since then; but Clara has transformed him into a softer man, something Vastra and Jenny thought was nearly impossible. But, that's Clara for you – his Impossible Girl. During those times the Doctor thinks, it has to do with how much he wants to be with Clara, to hold her and assure her that everything was truly always going to be okay because he would never let anything hurt her as long as he is around, but he knows a chance like that will never happen. He would outlive Clara in several decades, and if their children were born with one heart, he would outlive them and their children's children; it upsets him greatly if he ever had to go through something like that. When Amy and Rory were both ripped from him, he felt like his family was gone forever, and realistically they truly are, but if he started a real family with a human it would kill him to watch everyone he loved and held closely to his hearts, he would truly die.

Clara watches from behind as the hunch in his shoulders gets deeper and as he starts to ring his strong hands from his back. She wants to rub the tension out of those hard shoulders and listen to anything that he'd be open enough to tell her about. But, she knows that will never happen.

"Ah, the Devil's Inn! We've made it without a scratch!" The Doctor announces right when Clara thought her feet would finally fall off. She's sure she's got blisters over every inch of her feet. He opens up the front door and holds it for Clara, who ducks under his arm and goes to the front desk. "We've got a room under the name of Smith," he tells the woman at the desk.

"Can I see a form of ID, sir, just to confirm the information?" She asks after a few moments of typing at the keyboard.

He hands over his psychic paper with a smile. "John Smith, twenty-seven years of age, and this woman to my right is my beautiful wife, Mrs. Smith,"

Clara giggles, unable to help herself. "Words, Doctor," she says, nudging his arm with her shoulder, biting back another laugh.

The Doctor wraps an arm around her shoulders and lightly kisses her temple; Clara blushes but knows it's just for show. "Alright, Mr. and Mrs. Smith, your room is ready. Here is your key-card, a brochure for breakfast, and everything you need will be upstairs in your room. Can I help you carry any luggage up to your suite?"

"No, thank you, we're okay," he says softly, his fingers idly twirling a piece of Clara's hair. "Have a good night,"

"You too,"

The two of them make their way to the elevator with the holographic key-card, neither pays attention to anything around them, just that both of their bodies are tired, achy, and the slightest bit turned on by their proximity. Clara is thinking about how they'll be sleeping in the same bed, and the Doctor is thinking about how hard it will be to concentrate with her warmth close-by him the whole night. Both want the other but they won't do anything about it.

Once they make it up the elevator and find the correct bedroom, they shuffle into the large space and look around. A window takes up one wall and a large bed takes up about half of another, a TV set, a closet, desk, coffee table, and couch are all on different walls; a medium sized bathroom with a bath and shower are behind two beige colored French-doors, the glass ideally clouded to only show the silhouette of the body.

"This is nicer than I expected from you," Clara says after a minute of poking the bed sheets.

"Never underestimate me, Clara," he says, laughing slightly as he sits down on the couch, toying with the TV remote, trying to find the correct button to turn it on.

Clara's eyes keep venturing to the bathroom and she suddenly feels that bone-tired ache throughout her body, she starts to feel a little grubby too. As soon as she thinks of it, her mind is made up. "I'm going to take a bath, Doctor,"

"Okay – don't fall in," he answers, clearly interested in the remote rather than his companion at the moment.

She takes the door-knobs in hand and closes the intricate doors behind her, smiling when she is finally alone in a room. The day wasn't filled with much except for walking, but it was with the Doctor and that's all that matters to her – and it was worth it, even if her feet are swollen and covered in liquid-filled blisters.

Soon enough she's figured out those weird knobs at the base of the shower and has them both turned to hot, the water is running above, and she's stripping down and out of her messy clothes. When she enters the shower and draws the curtain back, she slips down to the bottom of the tub and rests her head on the back wall, taking deep breaths of the vapor and relaxing with the hot water on her back.

A knock comes after several minutes – what feels like an hour to Clara. She jumps at the knock, and answers, "Yeah?"

"I just realized that maybe leaving the TARDIS in the middle of a valley probably wasn't the best thing to do. Where is your key? I'm going to call her here," the Doctor says, his fingers absently tracing the wood-grain texture on the door, thinking fondly of his TARDIS.

"It's on my clothes here in the bathroom – you can come in and get it,"

"A-Are you at least not in my line of sight? I don't want to see anything," he says, starting to sound flustered and a bit awkward.

"The curtain's pulled across so it's fine," Clara laughs, knowing that the Doctor is always a bit too nervous around her.

There's the soft shuffling of feet outside then the doors open up. Clara can feel her pulse speed up just enough that she peeks out from behind the dark curtain to see the Doctor gently grabbing the key he gave her off of the stack of clothes she left on the chair.

"Thanks, Clara," he says, exiting the bathroom quickly, not looking towards the tub at all.


End file.
